


out of habit

by be_the_good_guys



Series: tumblr requests [1]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Light Angst, Literal Sleeping Together, M/M, Missing Scene, No Smut, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Prompt Fill, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-15
Updated: 2020-08-15
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:14:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25921915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/be_the_good_guys/pseuds/be_the_good_guys
Summary: “Thanks,” Nate says, his smile lingering like Jackson’s hand on his face, and any coils of anxiety in Jackson’s chest unfurl.--In which Jackson and Miller get their own bedroom at the farmhouse and it's A Lot.
Relationships: Eric Jackson/Nathan Miller
Series: tumblr requests [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1881226
Comments: 7
Kudos: 14





	out of habit

It’s kind of stupid, but Jackson still can’t get over how big the beds at the farmhouse are. The bedrooms aren’t extravagant or anything, with the exception of Clarke’s master suite, which has its own bathroom and a walk-in closet and is frankly bigger than the unit Jackson shared with two other apprentices on the Ark (Clarke freaking deserves it, he hopes she’s getting some rest right now)-- just a bed and a dresser with a mirror over it. 

Raven had insisted that he and Nate take the room with a large window overlooking the field, and he noticed Madi and Clarke doing the same for Niylah and Gaia and Indra with the other bedrooms with windows. Nobody said it outright, but it’s obvious they were thinking of the bunker, and that group’s six years without seeing the sky, and part of Jackson-- a new development he hadn’t even been aware of until they went to check out the farmhouse’s basement and his heart began to pound at the familiar dimness and cement walls on all sides-- was silently relieved. 

By normal standards (and honestly, who had normal standards at this point?) a few pieces of furniture might be considered the bare minimum, but taking the luxuries in as he waits for Nate to get out of the shower, Jackson is borderline overwhelmed to the point of being restless.

He’s gotten up multiple times to open and close the window, settling on leaving it open a crack to allow in the gentle breeze. He sits with his legs crossed in the center of the bed, fidgeting with the soft new t-shirt and pants he’d put on to sleep in; Niylah spent the morning raiding the house for clothing and divvying up her finds among them, and the new clothes make him feel vaguely as though he’s wearing somebody else’s skin. 

Not to say that everything is  _ too  _ nice-- he’s the most comfortable he’s been in his entire life, it’s the not being used to that comfort that makes him unsure what to do with himself. He’s felt this before when they stayed at Becca’s mansion on Earth, but he’d barely had time to indulge in the accommodations then when he’d been spending every waking minute in the lab with Abby, searching for a way to make nightblood. Hell, he’d even slept in that lab. 

But this is different, because they get to  _ stay _ here.

“With any luck,” Nate remarks, and Jackson lifts his head, having been unaware that a.) Nate had returned from the bathroom down the hall and that b.) he’d said that last bit out loud.

Nate’s own t-shirt is sticking to his still-damp skin because he has a habit of not drying off all the way before dressing, and for some reason the sight and his comment makes Jackson smile. He reaches his arms out for him, sleepily beckoning him forward. “C’mere.”

Nate complies, crawling towards him on the bed with a matching grin, coming to a stop in front of him. “I thought we were going to sleep…?”

Jackson snorts, swatting his arm lightly and lifting a hand to tilt his face sideways. “We  _ are _ , you’ve still got soot behind your ear.” He rubs at the respective smudge with his thumb until it’s mostly gone. They don’t talk about  _ why _ Nate has soot behind his ear; Clarke burning down the palace less than three hours ago is an issue for the morning, not now, in this warmly lit room with just the two of them. “Got it.”

“Thanks,” Nate says, his smile lingering like Jackson’s hand on his face, and any coils of anxiety in Jackson’s chest unfurl.

Despite his previous resignation that they sleep, he’s unable to help himself from leaning forward and softly pressing lip’s to Nate’s, tired eyes shuttering closed. 

Nate’s hand brushes against Jackson’s shoulder, and Jackson allows himself to be guided down so he’s lying on his back with Nate leaning over him. Warmth seeps from a spot in his chest, making its way throughout his whole body and Jackson thinks this is his favorite feeling in the universe. 

They kiss like that for a little bit-- gently-- neither of them wanting to be the first one to pull away, and at some point they end up just curled up with each other on the bed, exhaustion causing any activity for the night to meet a natural end. It’s alright though; they have time, and an actual  _ bed _ , which is a huge upgrade from the medical supply closet in the bunker.

Jackson’s head is resting on Nate’s shoulder, their legs tangled together, basically on top of each other despite the fact that this bed has room for two people, unlike the bunk they shared for the last six years. Jackson isn’t sure if he wants to take advantage of the excess room over being tangled up with Nate-- isn’t sure if he’d be able to sleep any other way.

Jackson has a habit of absentmindedly tracing the scars mapping Nate’s body. The long, still healing slice in his arm is the one Jackson left during the Red Sun. He can’t remember what he’d been thinking when he cut it-- Bellamy said something about bugs-- he just remembers the feeling, terror coursing through his veins and seizing up his body at the illusion of Nate dying. 

He knows there are more scars under Nate’s shirt, scattered bullet and knife wounds from Earth, half of which Jackson patched up himself. 

Jackson’s only got one real scar, located on his bicep where ALIE’s drone shot him. Nate had been there for that, and back then Jackson never would have imagined that Nate would be with him now, too. 

Jackson’s never been very good at holding onto people; he’s dealt with so many, but patients come and go. Abby and Nate are the only ones he’s ever really been able to call  _ his _ : Abby, his mentor, and Nate, his… Well, Nate’s all he has now. The thought crossed his mind in the past day since Abby’s death and the idea that Nate can die too is like that terror he felt during the Red Sun magnified by a thousand, but right now, in their room on their bed, that fear only rises to a mild buzz in the back of his mind. 

Nate catches Jackson’s hand, running his thumb over Jackson’s knuckles. They’re skilled at communicating through silence; their relationship came to be in a place where privacy was almost nonexistent, so they learned to talk without words. 

Jackson knows they can speak now, but habit forces his voice down, just as it keeps him pressed up against Nate’s side and the right side of the bed cold.

As though reading his mind, Nate murmurs, “Do you want to talk about it?” as Jackson’s half asleep. “It” can refer to any number of things; Clarke, Bellamy being gone, Abby, Murphy, Blodre--  _ Octavia _ , the bunker, themselves. The list goes on and on. 

“Not right now,” Jackson mumbles back, eyes closed. “I love you.”

“Love you too, Jax.”

In the bunker, when the walls felt suffocating, Nate had this idea for Jackson to sneak a stethoscope from medical into their bunk so they could listen to the sound of each other’s heartbeat. Jackson had thought it to be unbelievably sappy back then (and totally Nate’s style, though he’d never admit it), but finding that steady rhythm in the middle of constant fear and uncertainty had kept him going on a lot of nights.

Even without a stethoscope, with his ear against Nate’s chest he can hear his heartbeat now, steady and familiar and grounding. 

**Author's Note:**

> this was a request from @the100epic on tumblr
> 
> i loved writing these two, they deserve so much better
> 
> thanks for reading!


End file.
